Returning her clothes to the chair, and wishing she’d thought to dress while he was gone, she scurried to the vanity across the room. She could feel him following her, and as she placed her elbows on the cold, hard, marble surface, she glanced in the mirror and watched his approach.

“Place your palms down flat and don’t move them,” said tersely.

To her horror he pulled the bottom of her swimsuit up into her crack and wiped his hand over her exposed bottom. She felt the hot flush of embarrassment wash across her face, but when his hand began slapping his palm on her naked skin with hard, rhythmic smacks, her modesty became the last thing on her mind.

“You need this like you need to breathe,” he proclaimed, “and I hope you learn from it.”

“Okay,” she squirmed. “I get it.”

“Not yet you don’t, I still hear that edge to your voice,” he said sternly, accelerating the swats.

“No, please,” she begged, staring up at him in the mirror, “enough. I’m sorry.”

* * * * * * * *

Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you liked the little taste. Before you dash off, I do hope you’ll have time to hop on over to the others on the Saturday Spanks Blog. So many terrific writers to enjoy.